Lifetimes forgotten Rick and Morty O-1620
by Rick.And.Morty.Fan.Q6-37
Summary: Rick might've ended up with some memory loss. RIP RICK. Swearing. Characters experiencing depression but fighting it. These guys are not normal Ricks or Mortys. Close to death experiences. This is not Rick X Morty because I personally don't support that ship. Rick is precious, protect the Ricks. Injured Rick. Rick wishes he didn't exist at all. If you want more leave a review!
1. Chapter 1

He was awake. The words in the upper right hand side of his monitor were fuzzy, they were flickering. The words scrambled, changing rapidly. This was so unusual, normally the information would show up quite quickly. And clearly. His monitor must be damaged. It cleared slowly.

Rick Sanchez. Dimension O-1620. Male. Age 173.

What? 173 years old? That wasn't right. He tapped his temple lightly, keeping his eyes shut tightly. The numbers scrambled again, flickering and changing.

Rick Sanchez. Dimension O-1620. Male. Age 53.

He hit it again, harder this time.

RickZanches-DimenzionO.1620-Male-Age24-

He rubbed his face and shook his head. Then, once again smacked his temple violently. If this thing didn't start working he'd have to replace it. Damnit.

Rick Sanchez. Dimension O-1620. Male. Age 70.

Fucking shit. Why wasn't it working?!

Rick Sanchez. Dimension O-1620. Male. Age 34.

There we go. Perfect. Finally. It was working again, just as it should. He opened his eyes cautiously, expecting it to be really rather bright. But he was quite surprised to find the opposite, it was dark. So dark.

Everything was so very dark.

He stood, bones creaking painfully, and started towards the last place he saw the light switch. His limbs didn't want to cooperate, his entire being felt like jelly, and he felt so... old. That was how he would describe it. Old. That was weird.

He stumbled, not quite falling, but pretty close to it. Everything was so... cold. He clutched his sides, he wasn't wearing a shirt. Why wasn't he wearing a shirt?! Holy shit he was so freaking cold.

He staggered for a little, but then abruptly found a very heavy, probably attached, item on the floor. He found it with his toes. The horrific crack-pop that the bones made ensured him that at least one was broken. Shit. It hurt so much.

He felt the object he'd hit, it was a bench. Like a kitchen bench. A kitchen counter? He honestly didn't care what it was, but why was it here? How'd he get in the kitchen? Wait, where was he? Who's house was he even in?! Holy Shit. Diane was gonna be pissed. What was even going on anyway? He couldn't really remember what had happened before he passed out.

A sharp pain stung his temple, he held his head gingerly, but as soon as he felt the dry blood on his head he became just a little more stressed out. He couldn't remember getting hit in the head, which meant it must've been a pretty good hit. That's probably what messed up his monitor. At least he knew that now. He'd just have to take it a little easy.

What if they'd gotten to Dianne?! He felt his leg, seeking a pocket in his pants, but found himself quite naked. Shit. Where were his clothes?! He was naked and had been hit in the head/had hit his head on something really hard. What had happened?! He wandered around blindly, and realised the possibility that his blindness may not be from the lack of light. He squinted, then blinked rapidly. Why was it so dark?! Was he off-planet?

He tripped over what felt like a body and fell down rather ungracefully. He sat up and reached a hand towards the body. His hand landing a little roughly on hair. He gingerly felt around, and found much to his relief that his hand had fallen on someone's head. He felt their hair, it was short. And soft, like Dianne's. Very delicate. His hand wandered cautiously, carefully, and found the person's shoulder. They were wearing a shirt, and lying on their side facing away from him.

"Hey? Wake up." Rick shook them by the shoulder slightly, then found his way to their wrist and felt for a pulse. They had one, a steady, healthy pulse. He felt his own pulse. It was... his heart was racing. He was super stressed out. He was so sore, and cold. He hugged his legs to himself. He felt dizzy even though he was seated on the ground. He leant back, against where he thought there was a wall, but found nothing there. He fell lazily onto his back, and rolled onto his side. This was so confusing and everything hurt. Holy shit he ached all over.

After a few minutes of doing nothing, he got to his knees. He carefully put his hand on the person's arm, then onto their head, then considered how tall they would probably be based on their armlength to head size ratio. He gingerly put a hand on their lower leg, good. They were wearing pants. They seemed young, probably not even an adult, and he really wanted to think that he hadn't slept with an underaged person while he was drunk, so he was relieved that they were wearing clothes.

He stood, possibly a little too abruptly, and staggered away from them. He needed to figure out where he was. He crashed straight into a wall. Shit. His toes still hurt from earlier. He felt the wall with his hands, feeling along while walking in one direction. His knee hit a table, which he felt along, there was nothing on the table that would be useful right now. He continued along the wall and felt a light switch. He switched it on and was temporarily blinded by the light. He held his head, covering his eyes with rough hands, and tried to recover.

His head was throbbing now, great. He was still super cold, he'd broken at least one toe, he wasn't wearing anything, he had previously been bleeding from the head, and now his eyes hurt. It took him longer than usual to focus, but when he had he looked around. He was in a kitchen/dinning room.

There was a teenager lying on the ground over there, they were wearing a yellow t-shirt and blue jeans, the appeared male and were wearing socks and shoes too. Lucky bastard. He looked around, and nowhere near the boy he spotted a dried pool of blood where he assumed he himself had been lying.

He looked down at himself. Holy shit. He was wrinkly?! His skin looked so old... he was covered in scars he didn't recognise. He felt his own face, wrinkly old person skin. He felt his hair... he had a bald spot on the back of his head. A bald spot?! What the fuck?! He was 34!? Balding shouldn't happen that young!? Should it? Shit. He didn't know.

He looked around, his clothes were nowhere to be seen and his portal gun was even less available. The room itself was quaint. His stomach churned suddenly alerting him to the fact that he was gonna puke. He went to the trashcan, because it was closer than the sink, and emptied his stomach violently. He opened his eyes and stared into the can. Well, that was a lot of blood to be throwing up.

He felt dizzy again and toppled over, luckily not taking the trashcan with him. As he slipped out of consciousness he could feel the irritating droplets of blood/vomit that slowly crept down his chin. His mind turned numb and everything that was real faded.

Suddenly he was ripped from the peaceful bliss of nothingness by a rather terrified sounding voice. "RICK?! You gotta wake up! You gotta get up! Holy shit, Holy crap, oh fuck, RICK!? WAKE UP!" He peeled his eyes open, man they felt so dry. He gazed up at the concerned face foggily. It was the teen from before. His throat felt dry too, but it wasn't too dry to mumble a meaningful comment on his current perspective/point of view. "Wubba lubba dub dub"

He tried to fall back into the nothingness, but the teen grabbed his arm rather roughly and shook it violently. It hurt so much. He glared at the child, "What do you want from me... why can't I just die in peace" The boy shook him again. "Rick? C'mon, you gotta get up" His eyes slipped closed, but he felt the teen drag him along the ground, not far, and then he felt the cold wall against his back. He'd been propped up like some sort of display.

He forced his eyes open when a glass was pushed into his hands. He stared at it. It was quarter full of what appeared to be plain water. "What is this shit?" The teen seemed so concerned over nothing. "It's water, Rick, just tap water, we don't have any cold y'know? I don't think there's anything else here? I'll check!" He watched the boy scramble around the kitchen looking for anything drinkable. There really was nothing. There wasn't any food either. The house had been cleaned out, and not recently either by the looks of it.

It was a wonder that the taps even still worked. He took a sip of the water, and rather quickly spat it back out. Ugh. It was disgusting. He put the glass lazily on the ground. Then he realised once again that he had no clothes on. He shivered violently. He'd never been so cold before.

He looked at the boy once again, but this time he was trying to remember who they were. They seemed so familiar, which was quite disturbing to him. They had Dianne's eyebrows, and her nose. Must be a relative of hers. But that still didn't explain who they were, or what was going on, or where the two of them were.

"So, where the fuck are we again?"

The boy looked confused. "Rick, you said we were in Dimension K-136."

He didn't remember saying that at all. "Oh yeah, right. Where're my clothes"

"Alien took them Rick. Remember?"

"All of my clothes? Holy shit."

The boy looked suspicious, he realised that he'd have to come up with an excuse that didn't involve explaining that he may have forgotten a few little things. He just went with the first thing that came to his mind. "My portal gun was in my pocket, wasn't it? Damn it."

The teen nodded, "Yeah, that thing got all your stuff. After it threw you and you hit your head it left with all your stuff. We came here looking for this Dimension's Rick, but no one lives in this house anymore, apparently Dad bought a new house about a week ago and we only just missed them. You said that after you had a short nap we'd track 'em down and stuff."

He shook his head, "Yeah, I know what I said. Fuck. Okay." He got up, once again too quickly, and once again emptied his stomach into the trashcan. The teen looked horrified by all of the blood. "Rick?! You're throwing up blood!"

"Wow, you're a genius. I didn't notice." He felt so drained and sore. He righted himself and leant on the wall, once again looking down at himself. His big toe was broken. And swollen. Shit. Oh well, at least it didn't hurt. Fuck. Who was he kidding? It was so painful, more so than any broken bone he could remember personally experiencing.

"Rick, Should we get going?"

He glanced at the concerned teen, and shrugged. "Take a look for anything we can use, I'm gonna go have a look around." He wandered off before the boy could respond, he didn't need any of this. He just wanted to go home, crawl into bed with Dianne and sleep. He didn't even wanna fuck around, he just wanted to go away forever. He wanted to fade away into the abyss, but she would be pissed if he did that, so he couldn't think like that.

He headed into one of the bedrooms and searched the cupboards. He searched the whole room and found nothing he could cover himself with. He shivered violently as he wandered into he next room, and once again was disappointed. There was only the curtains, and he really didn't wanna wear curtains. Especially of that particular colour. Whoever picked those out was very poor in taste.

He searched all of the rooms and found nothing he could wear. He headed into the garage and searched it thoroughly. Under a wall panel he found a box full of things, and so he quickly got it onto the bench. It was heavy. He tipped it all out, and much to his dismay he still found nothing to cover himself with. He sighed.

As he dumped everything back into the box and piece of paper fell out. He put everything down and picked the paper up, it was a note. He read it. The note told of the new address that this dimension's Rick had moved to, it also showed the date which they had moved. The note was addressed to Bird Person. He frowned.

Putting the note aside from the pile of things he looked for any weaponry available, anything that he could use to build a way out of this messed up dimension. He just wanted to go back to his beautiful wife. He just wanted to go home. He found a screwdriver, a hammer, and a handful of nails. He found some wiring, some sort of melted plastic thing, and he found a piece of string.

There was really very little else. Why was the box so heavy then. He felt the base of it, and found a latch. He opened it up and found none other that a flat, armoured box in the base. It was heavy. He took it out and inspected it, before trying to open it. He nearly dropped it when the high pitched voice spoke up behind him.

"Rick? What are you doing?"

He tried to calm down. It was just the kid. Everything would be okay. He leant roughly against the desk, then composed himself. He spun around glaringly, holding the strange device/box in one hand and a screwdriver in the other. "I was TRYING to FOCUS." The boy frowned, "What's that?"

Ugh. Holy shit this kid was annoying. "You ask too many questions"

They were both frowning now. "But... why have you got a screwdriver? Where did you get a screwdriver Rick? I didn't think that-"

"Holy shit, I have no idea what you're getting at, I found it in the box. I gotta concentrate and get the armour off this thing so we can use it."

The boy crossed his arms and watched him. He couldn't get the stupid thing open. This armour was good. He couldn't find a weak spot.

"Rick?"

"What the fuck do you want can't you see I'm busy!?"

The teen took the device from him roughly. "This is a shielded box Rick, that an alternate version of You made. Do you really think you can get into it with a screwdriver like you were trynna?"

He crossed his arms. "Well fine then genius, you get the fucking thing open."

The kid did something he wasn't expecting. He threw it onto the ground and stomped on it, and surprisingly the armour casing popped off. "How did you know that would work?"

The teen glanced suspiciously at him, "Well, that's how you always get armoured cases off things usually. I've seen you do it plenty, so I just figured y'know, this didn't look any different." Then the boy picked up the device out of its shell. It was a strange box, with a Blue button on the top. It looked overly familiar. It was obviously something built in the same build style he had, so the other Rick probably built it.

The kid grinned up at him. "It's a Meeseeks box! Just like from home! Except a different shape, but that's so cool anyway. Maybe we can get a Meeseeks to take us to where the Other Rick lives!"

He frowned. A Meeseeks? Some sort of alien that can be summoned from a push of the button on this strange device. An alien that can be made to do things requested? Some sort of alien slave. Holy shit. Were all Ricks so messed up? He just wanted to summon it and set if free.

He took up the device carefully and inspected it. In one hand he clutched the screwdriver, and in the other he held the Meeseeks device carefully. He pushed the button experimentally. A blue alien appeared out of nothing, and exclaimed loudly. "I'm Mr Meeseeks! Look at Me!" The boy smiled at the alien, "Hey Mr Meeseeks! Rick, what do we want from this one?"

He considered this. "Answer three questions that I ask you."

Mr Meeseeks waved his hands around, "Sure can do!"

He contemplated his questions, and then asked the first one. "Where does the Rick of this Dimension, Rick K-136, currently reside?" The Meeseeks recited the address from on the piece of paper to the letter. He nodded.

"How far from this current location is that residence?" The alien told him, it wasn't really all that far away actually. Only a few days walk.

"What is the current time, date, and day is it in this dimension?"

"1:02 AM, 12/12/2018, Saturday."

He nodded, and the alien suddenly dispersed. He was concerned, but didn't ask. The 'Meeseeks' seemed happy to answer to questions asked, but when it had done what was asked it dispersed. Almost like it stopped existing. It was entirely possible that Meeseeks were a type of genie species, existing only to complete a purpose, which once completed would allow them to return to nonexistence. He wished he was like that himself. Not existing.

"Rick? Are you feeling okay?"

He looked at the child, who was staring up at him in concern. So much concern. Who even was this kid? How was he related to Dianne and how did he know Rick? He rolled his eyes, "I feel like shit, do you know how shit feels?"

The teen looked disturbed. "Doesn't it depend on what you eat?"

He shrugged, "Well I feel awful. Come on then, we're not going to get where we're trying to be by talking about shit"

The boy grabbed up the Meeseeks device, "Rick! Aren't we gonna get a Meeseeks to take us there?" He turned to the boy, who obviously had dealt with these aliens before. "Fine, whatever, just get over with it." The kid looked overly concerned, but then looked determined and pushed the button. Another Meeseeks appeared out of nowhere, it was obviously a different Meeseeks.

"I'm MR MEESEEKS!"

He closed his eyes, why did this have to happen, while everything had been going so well? He just hoped that he could get back before Dianne noticed he was even gone. Wait. Holy shit, the funeral! He was gonna be late for Dianne's mother's funeral. Fucking Damnit. He phased back into the conversation, and heard the teen's words quite clearly.

"...Ok Mr Meeseeks, if you can do it without messing anything up you can stop existing, but if you can't we'll have to get you to do something else instead."

He suddenly felt the whole world fall apart around him, and the three of them were standing out on the road in front of a house. The Meeseeks looked at the kid desperately. "Did I do it good? Can I go away now?!" The teen grinned. "Yes, you did great!" And then the alien was gone.

The kid grinned up at him. "So, this is where they live! It's so fancy!" He looked at the house, it didn't look all that great to him. Just looked like a plain old house. He followed the teen who went over to the front door. The boy turned to look at him, then smiled again. He frowned and crossed his arms. He didn't have any reason to smile back.

The teen shrugged and rang the doorbell. After a few minutes a man opened the door. "Morty! What are you doing outside at One in the morning? Haven't you got school tomorrow?" He frowned again. "Tomorrow's Sunday." The man gasped and looked up at him. "Rick! I didn't see you there. Wait. Did you take Morty out on another adventure after I specifically said no adventures during the weekend?!" He put his hands behind his back and lent forwards in an intimidating fashion. The man looked quite intimidated by him really. He felt somewhat satisfied and superior.

The boy, who's name appeared to be Morty, poor fucking kid, spoke up again.

"Dad, just let us inside, alright?

The man sighed and stepped aside, allowing them to enter. Morty led them to the garage and opened the door, then stopped. He shrugged and went passed the kid into the garage, whatever. The teen followed and shut the door before the man could speak again. Morty locked the door. Interesting move.

He looked around, the garage was quite alike the one in the other house, except it was loaded with things. Much like his own at home. A hatch in the ground opened and Rick K-137 climbed out followed by what he guessed must be Morty K-137.

The K-137s looked quite startled. Rick K-137 pulled a gun and aimed it at him. Shit. He looked so old. He considered his options. He didn't really have any. Then K-137 spoke up. "What the fuck are you doing in my dimension. You have no right or reason to be here." He looked at the ground. Fuck it. He didn't need this shit right now. "I uh, well... See... Fuck... u um..?" he looked at 'his' Morty.

Morty glanced at him in concern, then looked back at the others, then spoke up. "You're K-137? Right?" Rick nodded, so did Morty K-137. Morty continued after the response, "Well, we got attacked by some creature during dimension traveling, it flung us into this dimension. Then it attacked us more and ate all of My Rick's stuff, including his clothes and Portal gun. We went to were you guys used to live, and learnt that you had moved, so we came here."

K-137 put his gun away then turned to face him, and he suddenly felt quite small. He'd never met another Rick before. "So you need my help huh? What will I get in return?" Morty glanced up at him in concern, and Morty K-137 frowned and spoke. "Rick! We, we g gotta help them! Th they're trapped here, and they didn't even wanna be h here, right?"

Morty nodded, "Yeah, Rick and I weren't even trying to be anywhere near this dimension, we were actually going home from a raid in QB-Delta 32, on planet Sebutt 9." He frowned down at the teen, what was he talking about. The last thing he remembered doing was going out for a drink. He'd never met this kid before in his life, let alone went on a raid with the kid to Sebutt.

The Rick seemed interested by this topic however, and crossed his arms. "Do you still have any of the crystals? I'll help if you give me crystals." Morty looked up at him, as if to ask permission to give K-137 crystals. He shrugged. He just wanted to go home. He didn't know what was going on, but getting out of this dimension was his priority right now. He didn't want to die at the hands of another Rick. Morty gave Morty K-137 a bag full of crystals.

Rick grinned, "Ok, I can send you straight back to your dimension or send you to the creature that ate your portal gun so you can get it back. You choose." He looked down at Morty, what would be the right choice? He didn't know if he'd have the equipment to build another portal gun at the moment. Morty looked up at him, "We should get the portal gun, so you don't have to make a new one." He nodded, looking back at the other Rick. "Sure. That then."

The Rick looked a little suspicious, as did both versions of the teenager. He frowned. "Fuck, just sent us to the fucking creature already." Both K-137s shared a look of confusion which turned to concern, then everyone there turned to him. Morty spoke first. "Rick... are you feeling ok?" He glared down at the teen by his side, "Do I look like I feel ok!? I already told you! I feel like shit! Fuck." He crossed his arms and glared at the ground.

Why was this happening to him. He just wanted to die. No, scrap that, he just wanted to go home to his beautiful wife and their comfortable bed. Then he remembered that she'd be pissed at him. Shit. Oh well, sleeping on the floor in his house was better than what was happening here anyway.

He heard the other Rick pull a gun again. Shit. He looked up at the other, the Rick looked really quite alarmingly angry, and his words were venom. "Who the Fuck are you?!" He closed his eyes, checking his monitor to be sure before he said anything. He was still getting used to being labelled, and hadn't yet learnt his dimensional code by heart.

"O-1620. I'm from O-1620."

He opened his eyes again, and once again felt quite dizzy. He stood still, he couldn't be seen showing weakness, not by another Rick. A shiver ran down him, a very unnatural feeling one. He shuddered involuntarily, then locked his eyes to his counterpart. K-137 looked concerned. He frowned. "What." Both of the teens looked up at him, and he realised that both Morty K-137 and the other one were standing next to Rick K-137. All three of them were staring at him.

A wave of pain spread across his body, and then everything went numb except for his head which started throbbing unbearably. Fuck. He squeezed his eyes closed for a second and opened them up again. His eyes hurt. Literally, his eyeballs were hurting.

What the fuck.

His stomach churned and once again he realised his imminent future actions. He didn't have time to find a trashcan this time. He fell to his hands and knees, managing to turn away from the others, and released the contents of his stomach rather violently in front of him. He'd thrown up more blood. Damnit. Why was there so much blood?

He felt so much pain. His head throbbed, his throat felt as though it had been torn out, his back was stinging? His toes hurt like hell. His eyeballs were painful, his wrists felt as though they'd just been burnt by an electrical shock. His intestines felt ruptured, his spleen felt like it was made of glue. His lungs felt like they were full of sawdust, and his bladder felt like it'd been cut through with a chainsaw. His heart felt like it had been squished and then deep fried. His brain felt like melting charcoal.

His vision became distorted and confusing. He was so cold. There were dark blotches and light patches invading his vision, they looked so beautiful. They covered everything, they became his very being. He couldn't feel. He couldn't see. He wasn't real. Everything went black. He faded into the nothingness, they became one. And he was almost ok with it.

And then everything stopped. He wasn't ok with this.

Something pierced his nothingness, his bliss turned to confusion. He couldn't fade, he couldn't join the nothingness yet. Not without her.

The nothing turned into blackness, and the darkness was broken by white rays.

He could see the stars of his own existence.

He felt himself slip from the depths of nothingness right back into the land of the living. With this return to life came feeling. Everything hurt. His pain overwhelmed him, enveloping him once again. Everything went away again, but this time he knew he wasn't falling into the nothingness, instead he fell back into his own mind. He retreated into the protective bubble of his mind, falling unconscious.


	2. Chapter 2

He could see his monitor data. He was awake. Again. Shit.

Rick Sanchez. Dimension O-1620. Male. Age 70. Age 69. Age 68. Age 67.

Age 66. Age 65. Age64. Age 63. Age 62. Age 61. Age 60.

Age 59. Age 58. Age 57. Age 56. Age 55. Age 54. Age 53. Age 52. Age 51. Age 50.

Age 49. Age 48. Age 47. Age 46. Age 45. Age 44. Age 43. Age 42. Age 41. Age 40. Age 39. Age 38. Age 37. Age 36. Age 35.

...

...

Age 34.

...

...

Age 33. Age 32. Age 31. Age 30. Age 29. Age 28. Age 27. Age 26. Age 25.

Signal Lost. Disconnecting. Please wait.

Holy shit.

His monitor had just failed and cut out.

Shit. Fuck. Crap. This was not good. He struggled, opening his eyes with difficulty. He sat up a little too quickly, and felt quite ill. That ill feeling intensified. He turned to the side and grabbed the bucket next to him, throwing up hastily into it. There was blood in the sick.

Wow. That was a bit better.

Wait. Where was he? How was there a bucket perfectly placed next to him? Had he gotten drunk? Where was Dianne? He looked around and found himself in a lonely room, on the floor. There really wasn't much of anything in the room at all, except some blood that he had been lying in.

He stared at it. It must've come from his head. He gingerly lifted his hand to his head, and felt warm, oozing blooding. Well, that wasn't good.

He became suddenly aware, realising, and remembering that he had woken earlier, and found a child. He frowned and strained his thoughts, pulling the memories of last time he was awake forth from his mind.

He remembered that Dianne wasn't here, he was all wrinkly and old skinned, there was a teenager named Morty who appeared to be related to Dianne, and also the two of them (Morty and himself) were in another dimension with different versions of themselves.

He stood up and found his balance. He looked down at himself once again, and found himself still wrinkly, and still naked. Although there was a blanket at his feet. He picked it up, and tore it. He used part of it to wrap around his head injury to soak up the blood.

It wasn't the worst makeshift bandage he'd ever used. His head was throbbing, but when he focussed he could make out faint voices in the room next to him. He took a good look around, to be sure he was grounded with the situation. The room was still empty and quite plain. He was definitely not at home. He sighed and approached the door.

His hand was shaky as he reached it over the doorhandle. Holy shit. Why was he shaking? Fuck. A shiver went through his very being. Shit. Why was he shaking? Was he cold? He realised that he really was cold.

He glanced back at the blanket on the ground. Shit. He wasn't that desperate. He was already humiliated enough. Plus he already had to use some of the blanket to wrap his head up, and it wasn't a particularly warm blanket.

He stared back at the blanket. He was shaking, trembling in the cold, naked, lost, and alone. He frowned. What the hell. He paced over to the blanket, picking it up unceremoniously. It was soft, warm, heavy and fluffy. He held it up to himself and felt its warmth. He was so cold. Whatever, he didn't give a fuck if people saw him clutching a blanket. He just wanted to go home. Shit he was pathetic. What would Dianne say if she was here? She'd probably tease him.

But she wasn't here, so... whatever.

He reapproached the door, but froze in place when it was suddenly thrown open. Rick and both of the teenagers came in, the teens were practically chasing the Rick, as though they didn't want him to go in here. The Rick spoke up, "You need to tell me EXACTLY what happened to you."

He felt so intimidated by the other Rick that his initial reaction was to attack him. He couldn't, this dimension belonged to the other Rick, and nobody would miss him here. He pulled the blanket around himself more. "I... We... were attacked by uh... weirdass thing, got us good, got me worse. Stole all my shit and stranded us in this dimension." He knew he was just regurgitating what he'd heard earlier.

Their expressions all changed from annoyed-ish to outright concerned. Rick K-137 took a swig from his flask and offered it out to him. Eh, he didn't really want a drink right now. He shook his head dismissively. But felt somewhat out of place when both teens and Rick looked quite shocked.

K-137 put the flask away and turned to the Mortys. "He does drink right?" Morty K-137 looked to Morty, and Morty responded vividly. "Yeah! He drinks almost every minute, fucking what the fuck Rick!"

He felt somewhat cornered when they all turned to face him. He shrugged. "I don't share flasks." K-137 frowned deeply, "There's some vodka in the cupboard, I'll get'cha glass." He shuddered. Last time he had vodka Dianne had nearly killed him. "I'll... uh... I'll pass."

Their frowns deepened. "What do you mean you'll pass?! DO you fucking Think I'm gonna Poison you or some shit?! Fucking Shit! Fucking hell! What could I gain from Poisoning another Rick?!" Both teenagers look overly concerned, and Morty K-137 grabbed onto their Rick's arm. "Rick, j just... Just relax ok? J Just c calm down!"

He could feel himself shrink back from them, he felt surrounded, and realised that they really were blocking the only exit. He didn't feel safe at all. He felt as though this other version of himself really was going to kill him. Shit what if they killed him and hurt 'his' Morty? He couldn't allow that.

He spoke up, he couldn't just stand around like this. "Morty" the name felt so natural for him to say, as though he'd said it a hundred times. But he didn't even know this kid. Morty approached him, "Yeah Rick? What is it?" He stared down at the teenager, whose eyes were wide and concerned. A sharp pain rung from his back and he crumpled into a heap, the pain was so intense, moreso than anything he'd been through. Fuck it hurt so bad.

He squeezed his eyes closed tightly, and heard someone approach him. It was the other Rick, who swore. "Shit." And he felt a rough hand grip his wrist. He tried to move away, but the other just held on tighter. "Holy shit, his pulse is through the roof! What the fuck did he take before you guys showed up here?!" He heard a Morty speaking in the background quietly, but couldn't make out what was said.

K-137 was speaking to the Mortys, obviously, but he could hear him quite clearly. "You didn't tell me he was suffering from the aftereffects of... whatever the fuck he's been on!" A Morty responded quickly, he guessed his one, "I didn't know he was ON anything! I haven't seen him take anything and he was acting normal until he passed out at your old house! I just thought he had a head injury and that was all!"

"Help me get him on the bench." He felt weightless as he was lifted up, but the feeling was cut short when he felt himself falling. He opened his eyes in time to really see the bench as he was placed onto it. He hadn't been falling, it had just felt like it. Holy shit. Everything felt like it was made from jelly. Except his legs. He couldn't feel his legs.

The numbness started spreading, but along the edges it felt like fire. It spread up his entire body, from his waist it crept slowly towards his head. It reached his neck and then could feel his toes again, though not normally. His toes had pins and needles. The numbness breached his thoughts as his whole body was enshrouded in pins and needles. He faded away once again.

He felt a sudden pull on his consciousness, it was sharp and unpleasant. He was awake again, he realised, and everything hurt. His whole body ached. He was lying on his side, and he tried to sit up, but instead he fell off of the bench he was on. Shit. His head hurt. Damnit. He needed to get home. Fuck.

He opened his eyes and looked around, he was alone again. He stood, and realised that he was in a different room from before. But this still wasn't a room in his home. He was still in another dimension. He sighed.

He wandered over to the closed door and went to grab the handle, but as he did the door was swung open violently knocking him back. He staggered and glared at whoever had opened the door. It was Rick K-137 and he felt once again intimidated by the crazed looking old man. He shrunk down, and he knew that the other noticed. K-137 looked more than concerned. "Hey, holy shit man, you uh, you feeling ok there?"

He crossed his arms rather defensively, and took his normal stance once again. "Where's my Morty, can't we just go?" The other came in and closed the door behind him. "Your Morty's doing fine, he's just out at the dinner table with this dimensions' smith family, they're just having dinner. He's fine, ok? But I need you to tell me what you took before you guys got attacked."

He shrugged, he didn't know, he couldn't even remember how he got into this situation. He was 34, not some old man. He didn't even know why he had been hanging out with that teenager, he just wanted to go home and check on his wife.

K-137 roughly pushed him backwards, and he wasn't able to catch himself. He fell against the bench awkwardly, he felt himself automatically cower and felt sick from it. He was being a pathetic piece of shit in front of this other version of him. "What. Did. You. Take."

He glanced around, and grabbed up a syringe of some weirdass looking black and crème liquid. K-137 stopped still. "What are you doing with that."

He glanced at the other, "Don't come anywhere near me"

K-137 was a little startled by his words. "Hey, you're the one who's trynna get home. Why won't you just cooperate and _let me help you?_ "

"I don't know what I took."

K-137 looked confused by the statement. "What do you mean you don't know? Were... Were you off-planet and just... just took some alien shit?! What the fuck! You know how dangerous doing that can be!"

He considered this. "I don't... uh... I don't really... I don't know. I don't remember taking anything."

The Rick frowned very deeply. "You don't remember taking anything?! Did you take your medication?"

"A creature stole all of my shit! I couldn't've taken my medication if I wanted to."

K-137 considered this. "What are you on, anyway?" Something about K-137's expression made him feel quite unsure about how to respond.

He started to panic. What if this Rick figured out he couldn't remember what was going on and used it against him?! What if he... what would he even do anyway? "Morty knows, I don't wanna talk to you anymore."

K-137 crossed his arms. "You don't wanna- holy shit! What the fuck is wrong with you man? I've met some messed up Ricks, but you're acting like a child. Wait a second. You haven't swapped bodies with your Morty... have you?!"

He fell to his knees and threw up violently, he didn't get any warning. So much blood. It was so red. He became absorbed in its glow. He put his hand into it, feeling it. He stared at his blood covered hand.

Suddenly he felt coldness, and liquid. The blood was washed away, away from his hand, and away from the puddle in front of him. He was being sprayed with water. He looked up at the culprit, and found a garden hose being aimed at him by Rick K-137. A cold breeze sent shivers up his spine as the other lifted him to his feet. He was buddy walked over to the bench, and put up onto it by the other.

"You're really not doing so well, so, me and my Morty are gonna go and grab your portal gun and all of your shit for you. You gotta promise to stay inside the house, or I'll have to call up the council."

He nodded, he didn't think he'd be able to leave the house anyway. Not even if he tried. He felt himself falling, and he fell right into sleep.

He woke and sat up. He felt quite refreshed. Glancing around he could see that he was in a small workshop, there were things around the place that he guessed belonged to the Rick of this dimension. He gingerly felt his head, much to his surprise the wound had healed. There was powder residue surrounding it though, so he guessed a healing serum had been used.

He sighed and stood carefully. He wanted answers now that he didn't feel like he was dying. He wandered over to the door and gripped the handle tightly, before opening it quickly. He stepped out into the hallway, and glanced around curiously. He could hear people talking from one way, and silence the other, so he started towards the voices. He wanted to meet this 'Smith family' and figure out what was going on.

The sooner he could understand what was going on, the sooner he'd be able to find his way back home to that nice cold floor. Shit, he was still fairly cold. Whatever. Fuck.

He stepped into a dinning room, and found several people sitting around a table. The man from earlier, both Mortys, a teenaged girl who looked remarkably like the man, and a woman who looked heartbreakingly like Dianne's sister.

They all stopped what they were doing and stared at him. Shit. He came over and sat down in the spare seat, he didn't want this to be a big deal. One of the Mortys, who knows which, handed him a plate of food. He stared at it. It looked so normal. He wasn't hungry, but the kid wouldn't stop staring at him. Fuck. He took a bite, and soon the whole plate was cleaned. He had been STARVING, apparently, and not even he had noticed.

The teenaged girl spoke up suddenly, breaking the silence that everyone had been under since he'd been there. "Why isn't he wearing any pants? Why didn't grandpa give him some pants?" Both Mortys shrugged at once, and one spoke up. "I dunno Summer, maybe he just doesn't care and couldn't be bothered to."

So in this dimension, Rick K-137, or Dianne K-137, had had a child, the woman here, who had married the man at the table, and the two had had children, Morty and Summer.

Shit. Wait. He had a Morty from his own dimension. Holy shit. What the fuck?! Had he committed time travel? Body swapped with his future self?! Holy shit. 'His' Morty was his grandson?!

Summer sighed dramatically. "Would someone get him some pants" He felt somewhat annoyed. "There's no reason to make a big deal out of this, I'm sure you've seen plenty of penises" Everyone at the table looked shocked. Even both Mortys looked shocked.

He felt somewhat freaked out by their reaction. Shit. Damnit. He stared at his empty plate. He was panicking. The only thing he could do to calm himself was to brush the statement off as unimportant. "Is there... uh... more of this... can I get more of this food? It's simply delightful." The woman stood, "Aw, thank you. Morty, would you plate your grandpa some more food while I find something for him to wear?" One of the Mortys nodded, and took his plate while the woman left.

The teenaged girl, Summer, seemed annoyed. "Nobody's gonna say anything about what he said about me?!" The Morty that wasn't plating up food shrugged. "Well we all know you've been with plenty of guys, I mean, who wouldn't want to date you anyway? You know all the guys in school think you're hot, right?"

She seemed to think about this, then she went back to texting. He glanced up as the full plate was placed in front of him. He couldn't help but dig in, the food really was excellent. Much better than his own cooking, but never better than Dianne's. He frowned. He missed her so much. He just wanted to see her, to hear her voice, to feel her harsh hand slapping him in the face violently every time he says something offensive.

He stared at the food, and then dug back in. The man across the table spoke up suddenly. "You do realise that we have to pay for the food right?" He stopped eating. Shit. He was freeloading, wasn't he. Damnit.

A Morty spoke up, "Dad! He's been through some shit recently, can't we just... I I don't know! He's not our Rick, maybe he's good or something!"

He pushed the plate away. Shit. This kid was defending him, while he was here freeloading on the kid's family. Fuck. He stared at his hands. He zoned out, ignoring whatever conversation they were having. He didn't need to eavesdrop too.

He heard the woman walk back into the room, she approached him. She was a lighter weight than Dianne, but she was also shorter than her too. "Here, put these on." She handed him some pants and a shirt. Shit. These were the other Rick's clothes. He couldn't steal clothes from another Rick. Fuck. He realised he could use this as a reason to leave. He stood, and left the room. He headed down the hallway a fair ways, and found a bathroom which he entered. He closed the door and stared at the mirror.

His body was so old. He felt so old. He felt somewhat confused. He couldn't quite piece everything together. He was missing a piece of the puzzle. He closed his eyes and fell deep into thought. What were the facts he knew already.

He was in Dimension K-137.

He was from Dimension O-1620.

He was the grandparent of Morty Smith.

Dianne wasn't with him here.

He and his grandson, Morty, had been attacked during dimensional travel resulting in them ending up in this dimension.

Then the creature had attacked him specifically, and torn off all of his clothes, and then thrown him into a tree.

The creature had then stolen all of his stuff, including his portal gun.

His current body was really old, and his counterpart, Rick of K-137, was also really old.

Morty seemed to think that Morty and himself knew each other well, and had believed that before they were attacked they were going home from a raid in QB-Delta 32, on planet Sebutt 9.

Then Rick K-137 and Morty K-137 had gone to go and get his portal gun from the creature.

Wait. He realised that Rick K-137 hadn't taken Morty K-137 with him to go get the portal gun back, and had instead just left him here. Was the other Rick even still getting the gun back? Or had he ditched them here?

He opened his eyes and was startled by the mirror. Shit. He had gotten a fright from his own reflection. Holy shit he was pathetic. He sighed and pulled on some pants, then pulled on the shirt. He looked just like the other Rick now. He stole another glance at the mirror, his hair was wild. He wondered why he had this hairstyle, it made him look obviously obnoxious. It would be hard to blend in looking like this. He sighed, he didn't want to weird anyone out by changing it, so he didn't mess with it right now.

He went back out into the hallway, he was much warmer now, and found his way back into the dinning room. The family was still eating, and once again stopped speaking when he entered the room. Fuck that was annoying. "Don't stop for me" He came over and took his seat gingerly. He didn't want to wander around the house, he wanted to hang around with others. He had felt somewhat vulnerable when he'd been alone.

Summer spoke up. "So, you guys are alternate versions of my brother and my grandpa right? So, you also do random stuff and go on adventures too?" He glanced over to Morty, but looked away when the teen looked at him. He stared at his lap as Morty spoke up. "Yeah, we go on heaps of adventures together, I don't think our dimensions are all that different. Except our Jerry, My dad, Doesn't have a job and didn't buy a house."

The man, he guessed Jerry, frowned. "He doesn't have a job? How does he support his family then?" Morty shrugged, "He doesn't. Mom does all of the work." The woman shook her head. "That's terrible. I would have to be working overtime to support this family." He felt a pang in his heart, and then a sharp pain in his head. Shit. He phased out of the conversation.

He kept his head down and his eyes closed, he didn't want to concern them, he really didn't. He hoped everyone would just ignore him. His head started throbbing again, pulsing, and sharp pains kept piercing the feeling.

He glanced up when a strong hand was roughly placed on his shoulder. Rick K-137 was towering over him, a hand firmly gripping his shoulder. "Oh good, you're awake. This'll be much easier. Get up, come with me."

He stood, and followed the other, noting that the family was still seated around the table. Both Mortys followed behind him, one a little too closely. He shuddered involuntarily, but continued. "I see that you decided to steal some clothes, can't say I blame you though, I have pretty good tastes in clothing."

He frowned, but said nothing about it. He didn't really know what to say to this other version of himself. By K-137 shrugged, "Tough crowd. Hey, Morty, not mine, the other one, how long have you known your Rick?"

Morty laughed, "Same as all the other Mortys I guess, not too long. About a year."

The Rick nodded, "Yeah, that's pretty much how long most Mortys know their Ricks."

They ended up in the garage, and Rick Lead him over to a workbench. "Ok, so, first thing's first, I'm gonna need my clothes back. Because they're mine, and... well... y'know." He nodded a little, fair enough. He stripped out of the shirt, then the pants, and the cold chill of the breeze hit him harsh. He didn't shiver. He couldn't show even more weakness. He dumped the clothes on the ground, to get washed later.

He could feel eyes boring into him, so he glanced around and caught the gaze of his counterpart. K-137 scanned him, up and down, and gestured for him to spin around. He turned around, slowly, to be inspected for who knows what. Once again he was facing the other, who gave him an approving nod. He didn't really know what for, but okay then.

He stole a quick glance to the teens, who were staring up at him in... shock? He didn't know. And he didn't know why either. The other Rick went back to work at the bench, sorting through some stuff as if nothing was abnormal. But he could feel the teenagers staring at him.

He stole a glance down at himself, he was covered in scars. Shit. That's what the teens would be staring at. They wouldn't really have any scars of their own. Not unless... he shook his head, they both seemed pretty stable at the moment. He didn't think that they'd do anything like that.

K-137 spun around on his heel, quite suddenly, and handed him his portal gun. "This was all I could recover, but that's fine right? You can always replace your other shit when you get home. None of it will be hard to remake." He took the portal gun and inspected it, it was so different than the one he was used to. It was so upgraded, so clean, crisply designed. Looked similar to a design Dianne had drawn up for the original, that he'd decided not to use. Shit.

The Rick spoke up, breaking his train of thought. "Okay, so, you two better get the fuck out of my dimension, now that you can, before I change my mind." He looked at the other, who seemed dead serious, and rather annoyed. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the Mortys share some sort of secret hand shake. "Fine, Rick of K-137, thank you."

K-137 stared at him, a little startled and quite shocked by his statement of gratitude. Morty K-137 waved to him, and to Morty, as he opened up a portal quickly. Morty went through straight away, no hesitation, but he couldn't help steal one last glance at his alternate self. The other looked confused, bewildered, and then quite uninterested when he realised that he was being watched. He stepped through the portal, which closed immediately behind him.

They were in the middle of the road, but there were no cars. It was night time, only a few streetlights on this damned street were lit up. Morty was looking around wide eyed and concerned. "Rick? Where are we?"

He looked at the portal gun. "Dimension O-1620. Why? Where did you want to go? Did you wanna go someplace else?" Morty looked up at him, his expression worried, "Why aren't we at home? This isn't our house!"

He frowned "I know that this isn't where you live. I just need to visit, A quick visit." He approached the building in front of them, and stared at the little gate. It wasn't the same little gate as he remembered, but this was the right address. He took the mail out of the mailbox and looked through it, which Morty was shocked by, and found it addressed to a Mr and Mrs Zachary. Shit. Holy shit. He stuffed it back in the letter box abruptly.

Fuck.

Holy shit. He looked at the portal gun again. It really did state that they were in Dimension O-1620. Fuck. "Morty, what's uh... the address again?" The kid seemed taken back, but responded, telling him the exact address of where they should currently be.

He wasn't meant to be here. He just wanted to go home. To his real home. He put in the coordinates and portalled them straight into the garage. Morty seemed super pleased, "So, Rick, I should go to bed, unless you need anything?" He shrugged. "No, you just... you go and sleep or whatever. Just don't wake anyone." The teenager left quickly, leaving him alone in a place he'd never been, in a timeline that wasn't his, with no idea how to get back.

He wandered over to the shelves, and found a box labelled 'Time Travel Stuff' and he grabbed it down from the shelf and put it on the workbench knocking everything else off. He pulled everything out of the box, inspecting each item, but found nothing relevant to his current situation. Shit.

He was definitely fucked now, wasn't he. He needed help. He needed Dianne's help. But how would he get her help? There must be dimension in which time ran late, and the Rick and Dianne in that dimension would still be young, they would still be 34, like he should be himself.

He pulled out a pair of dimensional goggles, and put them on. He needed to find the right dimension, he would find the right dimension, he would find his beloved wife and he would find his way back home.

Nothing would stop him. There was nothing that could keep him from her.


End file.
